Sunday 23 October 2011 15.52 EDT
First published on Sunday 23 October 2011 15.52 EDT

"You need a strong man to run the country," whispered Claude Guéant [the French interior minister] into the ear of an eminent expert from the commission charged with overseeing constitutional reform in post-Ben Ali Tunisia.

Since becoming independent from French colonialism in 1956, Tunisia has only ever experienced "strong men" – a euphemism for dictators. But an unprecedented revolution caught the world's intelligence agencies by surprise and swept away the country's second dictator, Zine El Abidine Ben Ali, and demanded democracy. Now the current obsession of those who look after the future of France - still Tunisia's closest partner - is finding the country a third dictator.

Sadly, there is no lack of candidates. The political class we have inherited from the old regime is full of them, in all shapes and sizes.

Just as popular demand for democracy was ever more clear and left ever less room for doubt, so the transitional government led by Caied Essebsi and his panoply of "committees" was ever more committed to ignoring it, and instead to carry on serving up the old authoritarian menu. But the young people who created this revolution have their own vision, their own programme. The watchwords of the demonstrations and sit-ins held since 14 January reveal a lot about the clarity of thought of the young people who continually reiterate the three urgent unfinished reforms: justice (including social justice), police and media.

Today's elections will be the real test of the capacity of the political class to respond innovatively to the these demands. They need to step off the beaten path of autocratic kneejerk reactions and accept the verdict of the ballot box.

These are the first elections Tunisia has known since independence whose outcome is not known in advance. And that scares people. Firstly, it scares the European, and especially French, decision-makers who refuse to accept the risks which come with any free and fair election. Their intervention has taken various forms: consultancy when the electoral law was being drawn up and the voting system decided upon; the material support that they give to certain of the parties who are standing, and to some partners from civil society whose independence is unproven.

The provisional government is also afraid of the elections and of what the ballot box might have in store. Its leader tried in September to pass a referendum to limit the term, legislative ability and powers of the Constituent Assembly, leaving executive and legislative power with the provisional bodies created after the revolution, without legal recourse. But he had to back down in the face of stiff public opposition and settle for a consensus between the main competing parties. This did not prevent him from declaring to the New York Times: "I'm not ready to take my retirement ... I want to continue with the new government, perhaps as a Prime Minister " . This was despite having said that his role would end on 23 October.

Resistance to change is predictable. We have rarely seen transitions in which people politely give up power. Nor is the transition from dictatorship to democracy a well-trodden path. The provisional government, obsessed by its concern not to upset the old guard, kicked urgently needed reforms into the long grass, and left the Constituent Assembly to deal with the four major areas of unfinished business of the transition – the preservation of vital records and archives, and the reform for the judiciary, the media and the police - as well as the task of installing a new government.

First, the preservation of records and archives – some of which were destroyed in the full knowledge of the interior ministry, which then court martialled a senior policeman who had blown the whistle. Happily, he has just been released after four months in prison.

Second, judicial reform. The government kept on the old team at the ministry of Justice, a team committed to protecting criminals from the former regime and fixing sham trials, like that of Ben Ali. Meanwhile the most important cases, notably those involving the murder of martyrs during the revolution, have been on hold for nine months.

Third, police reform, which after some initial progress during the first three months of the revolution, was stopped dead.

Fourth, media reform, which has barely begun. Our current media landscape is the one we inherited from Ben Ali. The lobbies of the old regime have succeeded in preventing the establishment of new outlets (such as my own Radio Kalima, to date still unlicensed) so the elections will be covered by the broadcast media set up under Ben Ali.

The Constituent Assembly being elected today faces great expectations, and Tunisians will not settle for cosmetic reform of the political system. The assembly will surely reflect the diversity of the populace without endangering the stability of the country, whatever disasters the naysayers may predict if they lose control of the electoral and political systems.

Deaspite the fact that the electoral system which has been chosen tends to work against radical forces, and despite the role that money has played in the campaign, there is still everything to play for. The people of Tunisia will remain on guard to see that their revolution is not stolen from them. Fear has been banished from the hearts and minds of the people of Tunisia. They will inspire other countries, as they have inspired other revolutions.